


the butterfly effect

by meliore



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Child Abuse, Coffee Shops, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 16:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15933782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meliore/pseuds/meliore
Summary: Two years ago, his father had kicked him out of what had been, for nineteen years, his house.Today, there's a strange man outside of the coffee shop he works for. Tony decides to check if he's okay.





	the butterfly effect

**Author's Note:**

> i started to do something: anytime that i write something and i want to post it but i feel like it might be bad or out of character, i think to myself
> 
> You Only Live Once
> 
> this was meant to be a small thing, like a drabble, 500 words at best. there's this thing about choosing two prompts and a couple, right? so, since i have a tumblr but it's empty and it has no followers, and i have a twitter but it's more personal than a fan acc, i just searched "random number generator" (literally. like that) on google and let the internet, literally, choose the prompt. guess i wanted to write buckytony anyway? so i choose them as the couple.
> 
> Somewhat.
> 
> the prompt ended being Aciddentally Saving The Day [100] and Coffee Shop AU [4]. i was going, like i said, for something small,
> 
> when i realized i had written five thousand words.
> 
> do i know how it happened?
> 
> no, actually.
> 
> am i going to complain?
> 
> also no!
> 
> i don't know how it happened but it did so i'm just going to accept it. 
> 
> this is from tony's pov, i guess, even if it's not in first person, so i tried to write what the thoughts of a teenager/young-adult!tony could look like. maybe it fits in the canon, maybe not, who knows, not me.
> 
> and last but not least: this is unrevised. kind of.

Once, not so long ago, Tony had what could be interpreted as a father.

His father was named Howard Stark, after his grandfather, who Tony never met. His father was a very important and a very good man, and this information came from different sources. And, really, who was him to doubt what adults had to say?

Even though the way he thinks about his father might imply that the man is dead, Howard Stark is very alive, as healthy as he could be.

Does that sounds bitter?

He’s not even doubting the theory that his father was a good man. Instead, he likes to think that since this theory is about a human being, therefore being about human relationships, he’s just a spectator who happened to see a different part of it.

Sometimes, what he saw was a man who lived in the same house as him, but rarely thought about connecting to his son in any way.

It went like that: when he was a child, Howard did, and he quotes his mother's opinion about it, “unnecessary cruel things” to him, and called them lessons. Like the time when he broke something Tony had put an effort in making, in hopes, and he’s ashamed to say it now, but in hopes that he’d receive at least a compliment, as short as it could be. He said that this was a lesson, so his son learned to not trust in other people so easily.

That was the only interaction they had. Usually, his father was…

His father was more calm when other people were around them. His mother, sometimes. Jarvis, many times. Aunt Peggy and the Howling Commandos? Their presence was like magic. His father became calm, even happy, and not even the melancholy and how he missed Steve could make him feel bad.

But they only came when it was Christmas or Thanksgiving.

And after Tony was thirteen, they…

They never came to visit anymore.

When Tony was older, Howard rarely interacted with him. He had taught his son what he needed to learn, so why bother?

Another times, what he saw was a man who was not scared of yelling at him, and had actually yelled at him so many times, so close to his face, that Tony managed to bury that little boy who would cry, because he was scared of the man he wanted to please, he was scared of the man who was supposed to protect him. That little boy was not dead, but the boy who stood in his place managed to smile, to answer whatever his father had to say.

And yet, that boy was as shocked as his mother and as Jarvis when, one day, he felt his father’s hand against his face.

It seemed stronger than vibranium.

Later, when he was sober again, his father came to his room.

“Anthony,” he said. “You know that I would not hurt you. I was...” and he sighed. “I was just so angry.”

Truth be told, Tony thought about many different replies.

“You would not, and yet you did”, “How could you be so angry with me? What did I do now?” and even “It’s okay, dad”, as…

As pathetic or ridiculous or whatever as it sounded, he wanted to show his anger, but he wanted to forgive his father because, maybe, if he did that, his father would realize he was worthy. Not worthy of the Stark Industries, not worthy of their money, but worthy of his father’s attention, worthy of his father’s appreciation.

But his only reply was the silence. He had a black eye after this day.

When his eye had came back to normal, he felt like it hadn’t happened. His mother and Jarvis acted like nothing had happened, even if they, for some time, were more delicate with him after that. His father never talked about it.

“He didn’t apologize,” his mind stated. As far as he could remember, he did, in a way, and that was enough for him.

Soon, when no one seemed to remember this day, Tony forgot about it too.

He didn’t forgot it like he usually forgot things. That punch, and a bit of the yelling that came before, were both things he could remember. He just forgot if that day happened, because if everyone acted like it hadn’t, maybe it was the truth, and Tony was only overreacting.

It happened again. And again. And again.

Even if it didn't seem correct, it’s not like his father punched him every day. And he’d say, in his own words, a ‘sorry’ here, leave a bit of money there.

So he must’ve made his father truly angry.

The way they interacted was either ignoring each other’s existence despite living in the same house or something that would start as Tony misbehaving and would end in a black eye. And in the very rare occasion, ignoring each other, but with a more calm background.

But that is in the past now.

It’s in the past, because his father had kicked him out. Not a week ago, not a month ago, not even half a year ago.

His father had kicked him out two years ago. Tony had nothing but the clothes he was wearing.

There was a lot of yelling. No punches, but a lot of yelling.

“You’re not my son” was one thing he remembered hearing. “You’re a disgrace” was other. The boy inside him, nineteen years old, felt like crying.

Tony held his tears. He yelled louder than his father. He yelled very loud, so if he couldn’t hold his tears, his yells would hide them.

He hadn’t yelled words. He just let out the yells he had kept inside of him through all of those years. At some point, his tears started to fall.

He knew that it was done, whatever their relationship had been, was done, dead, gone forever, right there and right now. If they ever tried to build something between them, they would have to start from scratch.

His father had said “I want you out of this house” when Tony stopped yelling. But all the yelling and all the tears had left him tired.

So tired that he couldn’t care.

His mother tried to intervene. She held Howard’s shoulder, trying to keep him in the same place he was. “Darling,” she said. “you need to calm down.”

And he thought that his father would curse him. Maybe punch him, though he hadn’t did that in a long time.

But Howard seemed to decide that he had enough. Tony has no idea of how that happened. He tried to analyze it, more than once, but any time he tried to think about a reason, none came to his mind.

“No,” his father said. “I’ve had enough of this. Do you know what that boy thinks about me, Maria?”

Tony felt like hiding his face.

But there was nowhere to hide.

Maria looked to him, and looked back to Howard. “What?”

“He thinks,” Howard made a gesture in his direction. “that I should treat him better. He’s so full of himself, Maria, he doesn’t know what true struggles are.”

His thoughts about his father, the ones that once made him feel like he was the owner of his own mind, now made him ashamed. He didn’t knew why. That was exactly what he thought, but with his father confronting him about it, they all felt wrong, like he should just…

Play along.

“You think,” and now he’s talking to him. “that I treat you bad?”

Tony tries to be silent, to not react, but his father found out about his secret and won’t let go now.

“Answer me,” he says, loud.

He nods.

“Have I ever beat you just because? Have I ever came close to killing you? Did I?” he tries, again, but his father is determined to make him answer. “Did I? I want to know.”

Tony might just cry again.

He shakes his head.

“A father should discipline his own son, Anthony. And that’s the only thing I’ve ever did to you. I’ve never hurt you. How can I treat you bad like that?”

He tries to avoid the vision of his father. The wall, the rug, the floor, his mother, his feet and any other thing is a better view.

“You punched me,” he whispers.

“Look at me when you’re talking to me, Anthony.”

They’re not even yelling, but it feels like they are. Like they’re being destructive, just as they are when they yell.

“You punched me,” he repeats, looking in his father’s eyes.

“Of course,” his father gives a step backwards and laughs. “Of course. Something that not only happened a year ago,” three months. It was three months ago. But maybe… Maybe Tony was wrong, and it was really a year ago. “but that wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t made me so angry.”

His mother looks like she has no idea of what to do.

“I don’t treat you bad, Anthony,” his father continues. “I don’t hurt you. There are people in the entire world who are being hurt by their parents, did you knew?” he does. He does. He fucking does. “There are men out there raping their _sons_. You think I would do that to you? Because I know that I wouldn’t. That’s abuse, Anthony, not discipline. I know how to draw the line. Of course, you, not being a parent, doesn't.”

And he could say that if Howard ever acted like a parent, it was either for the cameras or when Tony was three years old or less. He could say that sometimes, when his father got too angry, he’d fear things. Maybe not rape, but he’d fear…

Things.

But he was very tired. Their fight had ended here, because Tony had lost any energy he had to answer, and his father only said “I need a drink, Maria” and “When I wake up, I don’t want to see that boy here”.

Howard went to his workshop. He found out that his mother was crying.

She never was loud when she cried.

“He’ll feel better in the morning, Antonio,” she tried to tell him. “Both of you just need to sleep.”

He shook his head and stood up. “No, madre,” both of them were crying. Good. “Madre, I don’t wanna be here anymore.”

She simply stared at him. He didn’t knew why. Didn’t knew if she was thinking about what to do, or just… Staring. But she stared at him, and after some seconds in silence, she took a deep breath and nodded.

“I’ll ask Jarvis to take you to Obadiah’s house, then.”

His mother never liked Obadiah that much. Not as much as Howard, certainly not as much as Tony. But he could be considered a friend of the family, and she knew he’d accept Tony in his house.

Jarvis did take him to Obadiah’s house, and he only left after making sure Tony knew the number of his telephone and after a long hug.

Obadiah accepted him, just like he thought he would, and they talked.

“Did you told my father what I told you?” he asked, even if he wasn’t sure he should.

“I don’t know how he found out,” Obadiah replied. “You know that I keep your secrets, Tony.”

He nodded, and smiled, which was not a good view. Not when he was so tired.

“Sorry,” he said. “I just...”

Obadiah put his hand on Tony’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to say sorry. I’d be suspicious too,” he sighed. “You’re very clever, Tony, and you’re an awesome kid. I just wish Howard would have the same opinion I have about you.”

And after the whole thing, Tony felt a warmness in his chest.

“I wish you were my dad, Obie.”

Obadiah laughed.

“I’m pretty sure that our friendship would be ruined if I were.”

“Or,” he smiled again. “you’d be the liberal dad everyone talked about.”

Two months after the whole fiasco, it became more obvious that Tony wouldn’t come back to his house. His mother decided that, if it was going to be like that, she wanted him to find his own place, something he liked.

Obadiah agreed. That was one of the, if not the only itself, only times where they actually were not only polite, but friendly to each other.

Two years later, he had his own place. It was not full yet, because for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to decorate it, but it was where he lived.

There was his bot (DUM-E, who became Dummy), a mattress, portraits of him and Rhodey together, and many boxes that he hadn’t opened yet.

And the garage, that became his workshop.

He had opened the last box his mother brought yesterday, just because he was curious. There were toys and comic books.

For one tiny moment, he let himself be that kid who liked Captain America. But reality was that the guy was to his dad what Tony would never be.

So, even if he let Bucky Bear out of the box and put the toy in his room, and found out that he was connected to that thing just as much as he was as a kid, he knew that he was an adult now.

The whole fiasco with his dad, plus Tony living with his parents, was the past. Now, he lived alone, received weekly visits of his mother that helped him realize that she was one of the most important people in his life, maybe the most, and worked in a coffee shop.

Yes.

That’s right.

His father had made him feel useless. And both of them cut any ties they might’ve still had.

That is: Tony, because of how much he felt impacted emotionally, didn’t wanted to be connected to anything related to his father. His mother, Jarvis and Obie were the exception.

His father basically not only didn’t wanted to be connected to anything related to him, but also disowned him.

Like.

Literally.

He would not be the heir to anything that his father had. Not the money, not the industries.

He still had a bit of his own money, and both his mother and Obadiah could and would help him if they thought it was necessary, but he needed money, right?

And he felt useless, right?

So he was working in a coffee shop. The media had been a little…

They were obsessed with the subject for some time.

But it died, just like his relationship with his dad did.

He, usually, ignored the subject, but once Tony started to remember it, he could end up ranting.

He should probably forget about it. It would allow him to be a better person.

That was what both Obie and mom, but Obie more, kept implying, at least. Not come back, but forget and forgive.

Shouldn’t he be the one who decided--

“What the hell is that,” he blinks.

Lauren, his coworker, and also the only other person with him in the shop right now, turns her head in his direction. She was about to leave.

“What?”

Tony thinks about what he should do.

He shakes his head, because just like the people who call him a genius are also the ones who say that he has some bad ideas, he might be a smart person, but he does have some bad ideas.

“Nothing, Lauren,” he replies. “You can leave. There’s a… Customer outside.”

“Ugh,” she complains. “I hate those. I mean, we _are_ almost closed,” she sighs, looks to the door, and back to Tony. They might be friends, or she might just be very polite. “Do you want me to get his or her order?”

He shakes his head. “Whoever it is, I can deal with it alone.”

She nods, and leaves. Tony goes out.

It might not be a customer, but he wanted to…

He doesn’t know. See who it was?

No.

Actually, he thinks, he felt his heart tighten. He had a feeling that something bad could happen.

_Brutto presentimento._

At first, he saw nothing. He thought that maybe he, somehow, mistook a shadow for a person. But there was someone outside, he realized, as he turned to his right and saw someone next to a motorcycle.

He recognized it immediately. Maybe because he had seen it more than once, maybe because whenever it needed maintenance, he was the one who did it.

Maybe because Daniel was a fucking asshole about it all the time.

As much as he was an asshole, though, Tony’s type of revenge is not something that goes out of the law, not even when he wants it to. The logical decision was to silently come back inside and call the police.

But the guy didn’t seemed like he was having a good time.

Whatever he did, Obie would pat his shoulders and would say “you did what you could”. Jarvis would be worried, shake his head, but be happy if he ended up okay and grieving if he died. Mom would cry, no matter the result, and would say something like “you shouldn’t have done that”.

Rhodey would call him “a fucking idiot”, which is something that he, Tony has noticed, only says when he makes a decision that will hurt him.

Even if he can’t know if someone is having a good time just by looking at them, and even if he tries to make it seem like he’s thinking first and acting second, he has already made a decision.

“Sir?” he touches the guy’s shoulder. “Can I help--”

The guy, faster than Tony thought possible, turned in his direction and pointed a handgun to him.

He really should've came back inside, man.

“Look,” he raises his arms. “this is not a good idea.”

He was expecting the guy to be a thief. Not someone who had a gun.

He should’ve expected that too.

“ _No witnesses_ ,” the guy replies. It takes a few seconds and a complete memory of one of his language lessons to understand it.

“I--” he has no idea of what he should do. Sure, he received some physical defense lessons as a child, but it had been such a long time ago.

He--

Wait.

Wait a minute.

Was that…

“I’m not a witness,” he finally replies. “because I haven’t witnessed anything.”

There is a very slight frown in the guy’s face.

“ _No witnesses_ ,” he repeats. Comes closer.

Is that guy’s arm real?

God. He wants to know.

“What did I witness?” he tries again. “You stealing a motorcycle? You’d, like, spend one year in jail or have to pay five-hundred or thousand bucks, man. Besides, I hate the owner of that thing.”

The guy’s frown is not so slight now.

There is a hint of something in his eyes, too. Recognition. Tony, at first, thinks that he has solved the problem.

And then the guy holds his right shoulder with what seems like inhuman strength. He forces him to come inside. Is he going to die?

He’s not ready. He’s going to leave DUM-E and Bucky Bear alone in the same house.

Bucky Bear...

The guy shoves him in the direction of the counter.

“You’re Howard Stark,” he says. Tony thinks it sounds like he hadn’t expected that, like him being his father would mean something else than him having his father’s name and looks.

The guy said that in English, he realizes, but he’s not going to comment on that.

“No,” the guy points the handgun at him with a…

A determination?

A determination that wasn’t here before.

“Look alike,” is the only thing the guy says.

“Look, pal,” Tony is not dumb, or an idiot, but he’s a twenty-one year old who has no idea of what to do, even if he’s trying to come up with a plan, and dislikes his father. “You look like Bucky Barnes, but I’m going to be polite enough to not tell you that, right? Shouldn’t you do the same to me?”

After that comes out of his mouth, he’s starting to feel a bit bad about how he has no idea of what is happening or what to do, because he has no idea if this was the wrong thing to say and he’s going to die or if, somehow, that was the right thing.

The guy looks kind of lost.

Tony knows that look, because once, some months ago, it was the look he’d receive anytime he looked in a mirror.

Before the guy is sure of what he’s doing again, Tony tries to distract him the best way he knows.

Acting like he’s fine.

He has practice with that.

“You have a very cool arm,” he says. “Let’s say I’ll give you some coffee, and when we both end our drinks, you can do what you want to do?” there is something lacking. It might not work, because who the fuck would believe on that. “Please, my boss will punish me if I don’t give some coffee to anyone who comes here.”

Somehow, maybe God exists, maybe that was the right thing to say because of a misunderstanding about the ‘punish’ word, maybe lucky exists, that does the trick.

“He’ll hurt you,” the guy is not asking.

“Very much,” he says.

The guy nods. He puts the handgun down.

That fucking shit worked.

He will grasp to the opportunity of coming out of this without scars and without dying. His family would be very sad.

He doesn’t want to be the reason his mother cries. And he has never seen Jarvis or Rhodey crying, and he’d like to keep it that way, keep both of the best men he has ever met happy.

Obadiah is not in the list because he doesn’t cries with things. He just keeps thinking about it.

In case he dies, Tony hopes he won’t, that he’ll share it with his mom.

Since he wants to be alive when this night ends, he tries to not be too slow –- and to not be too fast -– making the guy’s coffee. And his own, too.

“So,” it’s… Surprisingly awful to be silent in a situation like that. “What’s your name?”

The man blinks, like he has never been asked this. Or like he doesn’t have a name.

“Asset,” he answers. And he sounds very sure of what he just said.

...Maybe the name is something like Azet.

Tony…

Tony dislikes it.

“Is there any other name you have?” he tries. He’s going to ask the guy if he can call him Set, if there’s not.

“Soldier,” the guy replies.

Okay.

Okay. Okay. Something is wrong.

Asset could be a foreign name, Tony thought, because you never know. He barely knew what was happening in his own country, what were the most famous names.

But soldier. Soldier makes the tight feeling in his heart get even worse.

“Can I call you Set?” it’s not right, but it’s better than Asset, and better than Soldier. The guy nods.

He thought that this man, whose appearance began to be suspicious to Tony, was a thief. But no, it seemed to go deeper than that.

“You’re not Howard Stark,” the man states, once again. Like he’s talking to himself.

The coffee is ready. Tony pours it in two cups, gives one of them to the guy, and holds the other one. “No,” he agrees. “I’m not.”

“Who are you?”

He shrugs. Nobody. Not a Stark. Not anymore.

“My name is Tony,” he answers.

Set blinks. He does that a lot. Tony shoves the cup he gave to him a little forward.

He seems to realize that he has to drink it. He holds it.

Set… Doesn’t seems used to hold things that aren’t guns.

“Usually,” he says. It’s not a whisper, but it’s also not as loud as any other thing that was said in this conversation. “handlers avoid giving us that type of name.”

Tony makes a self-note to think about the ‘handlers’.

“What type of name?”

“Human names,” Set replies. “They can make you think you’re human.”

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shitshitshit.

Something very bad is happening to that dude.

“You look like a human to me,” Tony says. Drinks a bit of the coffee, tries to bury the panic that he’s starting to feel deep down his soul. He needs to be calm.

Set flinches.

“Your handler will punish you if you say something like that,” he says, like he’s giving a warning, or telling Tony something that should be obvious.

Tony nods.

They both fall silent. Tony drinks his own coffee, slowly, and his mind doesn’t give him any new idea about what to say.

He puts his cup down when he finishes.

“Set,” he says. Set looks to Tony’s cup, and drinks all the coffee in his cup in one gulp. “I think that something bad is happening.”

Set blinks. Again, he does that a lot.

It’s pretty.

“Do you need maintenance?”

Tony shakes his head. He doesn’t know what maintenance is supposed to mean.

“I hope not,” he says. “But I'm not feeling good. Would you...” that’s it. He just had an idea. “Would you mind if I called my… My other handler?”

Set doesn’t look suspicious, which is good and bad. Good because the idea of a second handler doesn’t seem impossible to him. And bad…

Bad because of the whole handler thing.

Tony takes the yellow apron he’s wearing off and looks to the small, white drawing of a coffee cup and a daisy that it has. Below both, the name of the place: Smooth Blossom Cafe.

“Do you like yellow?” he murmurs. Set seems to consider it.

Tony wonders if that man is the same one his dad, once or twice, told him about. Dad talked about the super-soldier serum, said that it could do great things.

What if it could do more than give someone health and strength? What if Cap was not the only super-soldier his dad managed to create?

It doesn’t makes sense, but it does. He just…

Needs to put the pieces together.

“It’s… Not bad.”

Tony nods, and gives Set the apron.

“Can you try to feel it for me? Just--just feel it.”

“Yes,” Set agrees. “I can.”

“Okay,” he replies. “I’m going to call my handler now.”

He’s not sure about his idea when he enters the employees only room, but there’s a telephone and he’d never forget his mother’s number.

“Hello?” she says. “Whoever it is, be fast.”

“Madre, it’s me. Your son.”

She’s the only person who answers this number, because Tony is the only who ever calls her –- or Jarvis -– and because his dad’s telephone is in his office.

Or it was, two years ago.

“Antonio,” she sighs, and sounds very relieved. “Antonio, God. I thought something bad had happened to you.”

He frowns.

“Why?”

“I was having a bad feeling about tonight,” she replies.

“Oh,” Tony didn’t knew if he believed on that type of thing, to be honest. “me too.”

“Antonio,” and he probably shouldn’t have told that to his mother, who can get worried over nothing. “Please, be safe tonight.”

Set was waiting, or at least Tony hoped he was.

“Madre,” he says. “Can you stay home, just tonight?”

She sighs.

“I don’t know, Tonio. Your father has something important to do.”

“Please,” he says. “Just tonight.”

The line is completely silent for some seconds.

“I’ll think about it.”

He comes out of the room. Set is still here. Good

“Set?” he calls his attention. “You thought...”

He might be wrong.

He hopes he’s wrong.

“You thought I was Howard, right?” Set nods. “That’s why you were violent towards me?”

Set blinks.

He doesn’t answers. Tony chooses to interpret that as _I don’t know_.

“Do you… Have something against Howard?”

Set is silent, and Tony thinks he’s not going to answer at first, but he’s wrong.

“No,” he says, in a whisper. “But he’s my mission.”

“You’re going to kill him?” Tony decides to be direct about it.

“Yes,” Set replies. Just like that. “And any witnesses.”

Oh.

Oh, God. No witnesses.

His mother…

Tony takes a deep breath.

“Why?”

His mother.

The guy he’s talking to, who reminds him of James Buchanan Barnes, is going to kill his mother.

The guy who looks lost and thinks that he’s a soldier or an asset or both is going to kill his mother.

He wants to stop this.

Tony wishes he could think about killing him first, but he can’t. There is something that stops him from doing that. It’s not even not wanting to…

Not wanting to do that.

“I have molded the century,” Set finally replies. “My work is a gift to mankind.”

And he wishes he could think that this is just a crazy guy who got something against Howard.

But he can’t.

He fucking can’t.

“Your handlers?” Tony asks, and he can feel tears in his eyes. Just the thought of his mother…

Maybe his father, but his mother…

“Is it them?” he starts crying. Good. One more thing to make this night better. “Are them your reason to kill him?”

Set nods. He looks confused.

“You’re malfunctioning,” he warns.

“Yes, I am,” Tony agrees. “Your handlers are your reason to kill him, then.”

“I am their weapon,” he explains. “Don’t your handlers use you for things like that too?”

Oh.

Fuck.

He forgot the guy trusted him based on the fact that he had handlers too.

Which was a lie.

“I’m more of a mechanic,” he replies. He has no idea of how he thought about that. “I build things, repair them. Things like your arm.”

This lie, and Tony can feel it, is beginning to get weak.

Set brings his own self back from wherever he was. That is, he puts up the…

The mask. Tony is going to choose the mask as what to say, even though it’s not one, not even in a metaphorical sense.

He puts up the mask of an invincible soldier.

“I need to go,” he says. “I remember another asset coming out of here. Or was she one of your handlers?”

“Asset,” Tony replies. “She was… She was an asset.”

He feels bad saying this.

But he needs to try and gain the guy’s trust.

And even though it seems like he already did, he just wants to be sure. Safe.

“You gave me that,” Set points to the empty cups. “I believe that you also need to go, since your mission was completed.”

But--

But Tony wanted to talk more, to convince the guy to stay, to stop him from killing his parents.

It was more about his mother, but…

But he felt like if he didn’t thought, even if only a little, about his father, that would just be the man winning again.

And, how? God, Tony was messed up.

“You don’t have to go,” Tony tries.

Set starts going away.

“Punishment,” is the only thing he says.

Tony takes a deep breath.

“What if you ran?” he tries again. “What--what if you ran away from them?”

“They’d find me,” he turns, and comes closer. “And the punishment would be worse.”

It makes sense. But who are they? Who are the handlers?

Because looking at it with a clear mind, and trying to put personal connections aside, if Tony is understanding this right, that man is not being treated as a human being. If he’s understanding this right, and thinking about the implications, that man is being tortured by someone and no one has helped him yet and he doesn’t even think of himself like the fucking human he is--

He wishes to say who Howard is, to see if that would change something.

He wishes to beg the man to not go, to run away.

“Will...” he breathes. “Will you come back?” comes out of his mouth.

It just does.

It’s not something he meant to say.

“If I can,” Set says. It sounds like a promise. “You...”

For a moment, Tony thinks he’s going to touch his face, because the guy’s looking at it and because his hand is close to his cheek.

But he walks backwards, instead.

“You should train more,” he says. “You’re malfunctioning deeply. If your handlers notice, you’re going to end up in the chair.”

Chair.

Now there’s a chair.

And Tony has a feeling it’s not the same type of chairs that are here in the coffee shop.

“I am?”

Set nods.

“If you end up in the chair...” he says. “You’re not going to remember this, but if you do, please, behave better.”

It’d be a funny thing to hear if Tony weren't crying, if the guy didn't seemed scared of the chair and of the possibility Tony ended up in one.

The guy, step by step, comes closer to the door. He opens it, but before leaving, he looks to him.

“Goodbye, Tony.”

And he leaves.

Tony takes a few minutes to recover from this.

From the whole talk they had. From the information he has about the guy. From what might happen.

The clock on the wall tell him it’s 11pm, and that it's almost 12am. He has to come back home.

Walking back home, he can't stop thinking about Set, the stranger who came and left.

Nothing had changed. Tony hadn’t changed. The world hadn’t changed.

Yet nothing would be the same.

**Author's Note:**

> the quote in the end comes from call me by your name. i've never read the book or watched the movie, simply because i... never felt like doing it, but i've seen this quote before and i like it. and i thought that it matched with what i wanted to do, too
> 
> the name of the coffee shop, smooth blossom cafe, comes from a coffee shop name generator. i'm not good at naming places or people.


End file.
